Blame
by Montage
Summary: Will a tragedy bring Jack and Sam closer together? SJ shippy angst. Minor spoilers for Season 78


Jack cursed the doorbell for waking him. He'd been in the middle of a dream involving better than sex cake…and testing the theory that it was just that. Sex and cake in one dream, and someone had to ruin it for him. Not to mention it was the first night he'd gotten a decent amount of sleep in weeks. He'd been having strange nightmares about the stacks of paperwork in his office falling on him and being buried and covered in paper cuts for days before anyone missed him and came looking. Someone had better be dead.

He groaned as he rolled over and saw the big red 2:34 staring him in the face. Someone had definitely better be dead. The doorbell chimed once more and he pulled himself into a sitting position.

"Patience is a virtue…" he muttered as he tugged on some pajama pants and a black tee shirt. He stumbled from the bedroom and down the hallway, the annoying chime vibrating through his skull again as he almost missed the step down into the entryway.

He grabbed the knob and yanked the door open with a gruff, "What!?"

Suddenly he was very awake, and it had little to do with the cold Colorado winter air whipping into his home. Samantha Carter stood on his doorstep in sweats and a tee shirt, her arms wrapped around her shivering body and tears streaming down her cheeks. She wore only slippers on her feet and her hair was tousled, sticking up wildly about her head.

"Carter, what's wrong?"

She just stared at him with red, swollen eyes and chattering teeth. Her body seemed to shut down, not obeying her command to speak.

Then, Jack was leading her into the house, closing the door on the snow and wind. He led her to the couch and sat down, pulling her with him. She felt him wrap an afghan around her and rub his hands over her arms in an attempt to warm her up. He pulled her damp, flimsy slippers off and retrieved his fleece and leather Uggs from the entryway to slip onto her feet. When he sat back down, he pulled her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her cold body. She let him hold her, virtually melting against him.

"Carter, tell me what happened."

Her only answer was a hiccup and some fresh tears. She was still shaking and he wondered if it was from the cold or the cause of her tears. He certainly wasn't a doctor, but she seemed to be in some kind of shock. Jack was starting to panic.

"Sam, honey, please tell me what's wrong," he pleaded.

She blinked a few times, bringing General O'Neill's living room into focus. He'd just called her Sam…not to mention 'honey'. Was she shaking? Her mind was fuzzy, but Jack's arms were around her and she could feel his solid chest against her back…she was pretty sure she'd died and gone to heaven. Until the last hour came crashing back into her mind.

"He's dead."

Her voice had been a barely audible whisper, but Jack had heard her as well as if she'd screamed the two simple, yet devastating words.

"Who?"

She pulled away from him and swiped at the tears on her cheeks with the backs of her hands, "It's all my fault…"

"Carter, what happened?"

"They said he slid off the road, he was driving too fast…and he'd been drinking."

"Sam," he barked, more forcefully than he'd intended, "who's dead?"

"Pete," she met his gaze as she whispered the name.

"God…"he didn't know what to say. He hadn't liked Shanahan, but he hadn't wished him dead. "Sam, it wasn't your fault. If he was drinking, he should have known better than to drive."

"He was drinking because of me. I told him that I was leaving him and he flipped out. He was screaming and throwing things…calling me a whore. I couldn't stay in that house…I didn't really like it anyway, but I never told him…" she knew she was rambling, but it felt good to get some things out. "I went back to my house, I haven't closed on the sale yet. When someone knocked I figured it was Pete. There were two cops, they said he'd been in an accident and he didn't survive the crash."

Jack tried to absorb what she was saying, "Why would he call you a whore?"

"Because I told him that I was in love with another man."

That took a minute to soak in. He knew when their eyes met that it was him. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her head against his shoulder and holding her tightly.

"Sam…you can't blame yourself. He was responsible for his actions. All you did was tell him the truth. You couldn't have known how he'd react."

She hiccuped again and Jack reached up to brush her bangs back, meeting her teary gaze, "Do **not** blame yourself for his stupidity."

She nodded reluctantly, averting her eyes, "I can't do it, Jack. The house, all of his stuff, it's all mine now. He left it to me."

"Don't worry about that. I'll call Daniel and T in the morning and we'll take care of it for you. Right now, I'm going to tuck you into the guest bed and you're going to get some sleep."

"I don't think I can. I just keep hearing everything he said to me…I hurt him so much."

"It would have hurt him more if you hadn't told him and he'd found out once you were married."

"But at least he would have lived."

"Sam…" not knowing what to say, he settled for pulling her to him once more and holding her shaking body tightly against his own.

Eventually, the tears stopped, but she continued to shiver despite Jack's warmth. He pulled away from her and she made a small sound of protest, taking hold of his hand with a pleading look.

A small smile graced his lips briefly as he told her in a soft voice, "I'll be right back, I promise."

When he returned to her a few minutes later after starting a fire and getting her a mug of herbal tea, she was staring into the flames with her knees hugged tightly to her chest. He placed the tea in her still trembling hands and eased himself onto the couch next to her, his arm wrapping protectively around her shoulders. They spent the rest of the night in a comfortable silence, knowing that the morning would bring difficult conversations and even more difficult decisions.

One year later…

Sam placed the single red rose on the headstone. She'd been in no shape to go to the funeral, so Jack had made her stay home. She wouldn't have felt right going anyway. She no longer blamed herself, Jack wouldn't let her, but it still hurt.

"I'm sorry…I never meant to hurt you," she said softly, tracing the fingers of her left hand absently over the name engraved on the polished surface of the granite slab. She blinked as the sun reflected off of the diamond of her engagement ring--Jack's engagement ring--and pulled her hand back, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans.

Jack leaned against the hood of the truck, watching his fiancée—soon to be wife—place the ring from her previous engagement onto the headstone in front of her. He'd supported her when she'd wanted to come say her final goodbye. He'd also insisted that he come along for moral support.

Finally, Sam pushed herself to her feet and turned back toward the truck. She gave Jack a small smile as he opened her door for her, "So, how do you feel?"

"Better," she replied, "more at peace."

"Good," Jack brushed a kiss across her lips. "I love you."

"I love you, too," and for the first time in a year, her smile lit up her entire face.

"Now, let's go get Cassie. You never know what Teal'c will do if we leave him and Daniel alone at a pizza place for too long. A hungry Jaffa is an unpredictable Jaffa."

Sam's laughter was music to his ears—for once, there was no hint of sadness to be heard.

Please review...I may be adding more/revamping it...but I hope you enjoyed the original for now! :)


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